


Pent Up

by ZuviosGemini



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sticky, a scene of masturbation, pre slash leading up to slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZuviosGemini/pseuds/ZuviosGemini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A whole month with no outside contact, and now it looked like it was going to be longer... Primus, Crosshairs was going to lose his damn mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pent Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fulcrumisthebomb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/gifts).



> This is not only my first CHxDrift fic, but also my first Bayverse fic, so... ehhhhh here we are??? O_O Comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Edit: Someone was kind enough to draw me art for this fic! [[x]](http://starscreamsswayinghips.tumblr.com/post/90792385234/for-pent-up-enjoy-your-robot-fingering-and/) **Warning: NSFW!!**

The waiting game was not one Crosshairs played well. He hated waiting around for anything, and that included Optimus Prime himself.

When the distress message had reached Crosshairs, he had immediately made his way to their chosen meet-up spot—the valley in the middle of freaking nowhere. Optimus had been there as he had expected, and they immediately thought up a plan of action to counteract the humans’ actions against them. Crosshairs’ idea to just squash the ones that got too close didn’t go over well with anyone but Hound and the Wreckers.

Needless to say, the plan didn’t work, and it had now been nearly a month since they had seen Optimus. They had gotten separated in the attack, Crosshairs and the other Autobots in his current company going one way, and Optimus and a few others going the other way. Who knew where they all were now…

Crosshairs picked up a pebble, rolling it around between his fingers before flicking it as far as it would go, something he had been doing for the past hour or so. He heard it skitter across the ground before coming to a stop, and started searching for another one.

“Do you have to keep doing that?”

Crosshairs looked across the fire at the mech addressing him. He picked up another pebble, keeping defiant eye contact with Drift as he flicked that one as well. Drift did little more than blink slowly at him before closing his optics again, ex-venting slowly.

Right. He was doing his meditation thing again. Crosshairs didn’t understand the point of sitting in one spot and not moving for hours on end. Drift had attempted to explain it to him the one time he had asked, but Crosshairs had stopped listening after about 15 words. Sometimes he thought Drift talked too much, used too many words to say something simple.

The fire popped loudly and Crosshairs sighed, sitting back, feeling restless. There wasn’t much to do in the valley, and Bumblebee—acting as the leader in Optimus’s absence—had advised that they stay inside the valley’s walls, so Crosshairs’ boredom was to be expected.

A whole month with no outside contact, and now it looked like it was going to be longer… Primus he was going to lose his damn mind. He sighed again.

“Do you have to keep doing that?”

This time Crosshairs glared at Drift.

“Is that all you know how to say?”

Drift raised an optical ridge slightly.

“No, but it is the question I have to ask you constantly, since you continue to do the same thing over and over again.”

Always so calm, even when he was annoyed. Was he even annoyed? Crosshairs snorted.

“Well if you’ve got any ideas on how to keep me occupied, I’m all ears.”

Drift cocked his helm.

“You could try doing nothing.”

Now it was Crosshairs’ turn to just blink. Drift hadn’t moved at all, and that alone was making Crosshairs itch to do something again.

“What, you mean like meditate?” The paratrooper said with a laugh. “No thanks, I think I’ll go find something else to do, like smashin’ my head against the wall or something. At least that way, I’ll stay awake.” He got up and started walking away when Drift spoke again.

“You should find an outlet for your pent up aggression.”

He turned back around, making a face at the other Autobot.

“I don’t have pent up aggression.”

“Of course not.”

With another glare, he left the circle of the firelight and ventured off into the darkness of the valley. He didn’t see Drift’s tiny smile as he left.

[][][][][]

It was well into the night by the time Crosshairs came back. The fire had died down and Bumblebee and Hound were back, both of them having been scouting around the edges of the valley for any signs of other Autobots. Every day they came back with the same report; they had seen nothing.

Crosshairs didn’t understand why Bumblebee didn’t just tell Drift to take a quick trip into the air to have a looksee. What good was an extra alt mode, an aerial one at that, if you didn’t use it?

He looked around at his unlikely teammates. Bumblebee was lying on the ground, arms tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow. Hound was propped against one of the rocks close by, that bullet casing of his still in his mouth as he recharged. They all were enjoying not having to recharge in their alt modes. It was a welcome freedom in a time where freedom didn’t exist for them.

Drift hadn’t moved a single inch, legs still crossed with his eyes closed. Crosshairs was severely tempted to poke him just to see what would happen, but after eying the swords sitting close by, he decided against it. He had no idea what a recharging ex-Decepticon would do to him if he woke him up without warning.

He found his own spot to settle down for the night, stretching out on his back so he could stare up at the stars. That was one good thing about the valley. They had a clear view of the night sky, and that was something you couldn’t find in the cities. As the minutes passed and the stars slowly moved across the sky, Crosshairs’ optics got heavier, and before he knew it, he was deep in recharge, mouth open slightly.

It was then that Drift moved, opening his optics and looking at the other mechs around the fire. These were his new comrades, and while he may not get along well with all of them—his optics flickered to the green mech sprawled adjacent from him, and then the yellow one curled up across the fire—he would gladly fight with them and fight for them.

His gaze returned to and lingered on Crosshairs, watching as his chassis rose and fell. Drift huffed a laugh at how he had his mouth open. Wouldn't it be hilarious if a bug or something crawled in there while he was unconscious. Drift wasn’t at all ashamed of the fact that he would definitely end up laughing. Crosshairs would go ballistic. He hated bugs.

Drift observed Crosshairs for a while longer before deciding he needed to recharge as well. He stretched and felt a few back struts pop wonderfully, and then he settled right back into his meditative position. He didn't like feeling vulnerable, so he wasn’t comfortable with stretching out like everyone else was currently doing. He would be able to recharge just fine like this. His optics slid closed and he powered down for the night.

[][][][][]

As the sun peeked over the edge of the valley, it lit up several spots of color situated in the center of the bowl the walls created. The slumbering Autobots took no notice of the light. Only Drift was up and moving, going through a slow form with his swords. Any of his faster forms required _kiai_ , and that would wake his teammates. For now, he reveled in the calming movements of his swords in his hands, feeling how they became one with his body. They moved through the air without a single sound, silence and stillness forming a cushioned pocket around him.

So deep into the form, Drift was unaware that he was being observed. Crosshairs watched him from across the smoking fire pit, the coals still a little red in the centers. He had been watching Drift since he had started his form, having been woken up by the sound of the other mech getting up and moving around. Crosshairs had always been a light recharger, and while that sometimes meant he didn’t get much rest, it also meant that it was essentially impossible to sneak up on him.

Well, unless you were Drift. There had been more than a few times where the tactician had seemed to come out of nowhere and scared the Pit out of Crosshairs. How Drift had learned to be so silent was no secret. Decepticons may be notorious for wrecking the hell out of whatever they laid their filthy hands on, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be stealthy, and Drift was the stealthiest mech Crosshairs knew.

Crosshairs liked to bring up Drift’s past for several reasons. One, it made Drift angry, and it was fun to see that usually calm mask crack a few times, even if that meant Crosshairs got a few new cracks in his frame. Two, Drift never explained why he had changed sides, and not knowing the reason drove Crosshairs mad. He would find out the answer one day if it was the last thing he did. Of course, taking into account how touchy Drift was about his ‘Con past, it may well be the last thing he ever did.

Third and finally, Crosshairs just liked pushing peoples’ buttons. It came easy to him and he enjoyed seeing the reactions he got, especially when it came to Drift. The sword mech’s comment about pent up aggression came to mind, making Crosshairs roll his optics. If there was anyone in the campsite who had pent up aggression, it was Drift.

“Good morning.”

Crosshairs sat up, still looking at Drift. The other mech was looking back at him, helm cocked as he slid his swords back into their sheaths. Crosshairs hated getting caught watching people. He preferred to observe without the other person knowing.

He grunted as he stretched, instantly finding a crick in his neck. Bumblebee may look like a sparkling all curled up like that, but at least his head was always supported. Crosshairs’ head must have fallen to the side during the night. He continued to massage the pinched cables, raising an optical ridge at Drift when he approached.

“I can fix that.” Drift said. Crosshairs almost told him to get fragged on instinct. Almost. He could deal with pain and soreness, but when it came to his neck, he just couldn’t stand it. So instead of saying something rude like he wanted to, he nodded. Drift knelt down behind him and took Crosshairs’ neck in his hands. Crosshairs worried for a moment about Drift possibly strangling him, but then he felt Drift’s thumbs dig into the back of his neck. The twisted cables popped back into place and he sighed in relief. That felt so much better.

“There.” Drift said, standing again. “I am guessing Hound will need the same treatment when he comes back online.”

Crosshairs looked over at the commando. His chin was resting on his chest, heavy snores filling the air. Crosshairs snorted. Yeah, he would definitely have a stiff neck. The paratrooper stood up and brushed some dirt off of his frame, already feeling the irritation at another boring day creeping up on him.

“Scowling already, Crosshairs?” Drift said, amusement coating his voice. Crosshairs’ scowl only deepened.

“Until I find something to do, I will keep scowlin’.” He put a hand up when Drift went to speak. “Don’t even ask about my ‘pent up aggression’.” He said sarcastically. “You can play zen master all you bloody like, but I know you’ve got more anger than me sittin’ under that fancy helm of yours.” He said over his shoulder, starting off into the valley again. Drift shook his head as the other mech left. He was really starting to think that he and Crosshairs would never get truly along, even if they had their moments.

Shortly after Crosshairs’ departure, Hound and Bumblebee woke up. As Drift had predicted, Hound asked him to give his neck a little help. Bumblebee on the other hand looked fully rested and hopped up instantly, his vocalizer crackling to life.

[Time for patrol. Let’s go.] His radio pieced together. Drift subtly rolled his optics. Bumblebee’s vocalizer worked fine, Drift had heard it several times, but he still chose to talk through that radio. Childish…

“Alright we’ll be back.” Hound said as he transformed and followed Bumblebee across the valley. Drift pulled his swords back out, preparing to start a new form, when he paused, sheathing them again. Crosshairs always went in the same direction when he left the campsite. In spite of his constant grumbling about having nothing to do, he was often gone for hours at a time. What was he doing out there? Drift’s curiosity won out and he transformed, making his way across the valley.

Crosshairs wasn’t hard to spot, not with that bright green paint job he had insisted on. Drift realized with a start that the paratrooper was sitting up on the wall of the valley. If Drift could spot him, that meant anyone could see him.

“Crosshairs, what are you thinking?” Drift said as he came up the side of the wall. “You are out in the open. What if someone saw you?”

Crosshairs jumped when he heard Drift’s voice, but he didn’t move from his spot, not even when Drift dared to sit down next to him.

“What am I thinkin’?” He parroted. “I’m thinkin’ I’d get some peace and quiet up here.”

Drift stared at him. With Hound and Bumblebee gone, the campsite was dead quiet, and it’s not like Drift pestered him or anything.

“Your explanation makes little sense.” Drift said.

“Then go somewhere else and figure it out.”

Drift felt a little needle of irritation insert itself into his processor, but he ignored it for the moment. Crosshairs was still looking down the side of the valley wall, staring out across the expanse of the land in front of him. The paratrooper was a puzzle to Drift, a puzzle that refused to be solved. It was both frustrating and intriguing to him.

“Is this where you have been going every day?” Drift asked. Crosshairs sighed, seeing that Drift just wasn’t going to leave him alone.

“Yeah. Found this spot a little while after we got here. Designated it as my spot basically.” He said, putting emphasis on ‘my’. Drift could tell he wasn’t welcome at the moment, but Crosshairs hadn’t actually told him to leave yet, so he stayed seated.

“It is peaceful.” Drift commented. Crosshairs shifted, his dark hands drumming on his legs.

“Yeah…”

The silence was only tense for a few moments before it became calm, the two mechs taking in the sight of the alien planet they were currently stuck on together.

“Did you ever think this would happen? When you first got here I mean.” Crosshairs said awkwardly. Drift vented softly through his nose.

“No. I did not. All intelligent beings are capable of both good and evil, but I did not think the humans would ever turn on us in such a manner, we who have helped them many times before. It was… unexpected to say in the least.”

Crosshairs nodded. Drift wasn’t wrong. Crosshairs wasn’t really fond of the humans to begin with, especially after hearing about what had happened with Megatron and Sentinel Prime, but the second they had started hunting down Transformers, Decepticons and Autobots alike, he was ready to toss a sarcastic salute their way and leave the damn planet to its own devices. Optimus had of course, said they couldn’t do that, that the humans could still be trusted, and that they were just scared.

Crosshairs had nearly gone off after that little speech, but that had been one of the rare moments where he had seen Drift shaking his head subtly at him, and had actually decided to listen to him.

“Think we’ll ever leave this rock?” He asked.

“That I do not know.” Drift answered. It wasn’t exactly like they had anywhere to go.

More silence before Crosshairs spoke again.

“I can’t be the only one who’s pissed off about us bein’ stuck here. I know I’m not the only one.” Drift looked at him. “I’m just not afraid to show how pissed I am is all.”

It took Drift a second to realize he was actually talking about his anger, and Drift hesitated before putting a hand on his shoulder. He felt Crosshairs tense up but he didn’t move away.

“We are all frustrated, and you are correct in the fact that we all have our own ways of showing and dealing with it. However,” Drift leaned forward so Crosshairs would be forced to look at him. “Taking that aggravation out on your teammates is not the way to deal with it.”

Crosshairs looked amused.

“This comin’ from the mech who picks fights with Bumblebee every other cycle—“

“Day.”

“Day yeah whatever.” Crosshairs never could get the hang of human time measures.

“And I fight with Bumblebee because he is a sparkling, and he acts like it.” Drift said. “He does not act like a leader should and that is detrimental to everyone here.”

“What does he need to act like a leader for?” Crosshairs said. “We’re hidin’ here. That’s all. Stuck behind enemy lines and trying to stay alive. He’s not wrong in sayin’ we should just lay low. I don’t have to like it to admit he’s got that much right.”

Drift snorted and Crosshairs gave a little smile. Another little button of Drift’s was Bumblebee. Drift’s issue with the scout was another thing Crosshairs desperately wanted to know more about.

His optics moved down to the hand that was still on his shoulder, wondering if he should move it or not. Luckily, he didn’t need to because Drift let go of him and stood up.

“If you are going to stay up here, try and keep an optic out for trouble.”

“And comm if I see it, yeah yeah. I know the drill.”

Drift tossed him a smile before sliding back down the rock face. Crosshairs heard Drift roar away in his ground mode and went back to staring at the rock formations.

[][][][][]

Bumblebee and Hound arrived back at camp shortly after Drift, looking downtrodden.

“Still no sign?” Drift asked.

“We saw more of what we see every day; nothing.” Hound said, sitting down against his rock with a sigh. Bumblebee did the same, sitting down and putting his chin in his hands, his car doors drooping on his back. He did sit up when Crosshairs walked into the area, which was unusual. He often stayed out until it was dark.

“Judgin’ by the faces, guessin’ there’s been no word?” He said, sitting down remarkably close to Drift. Bumblebee shook his head with a sad sound. Crosshairs flopped onto his back, one of his arms sprawled partially behind Drift.

“Of course not.” He said, heaving a sigh. Drift was looking down at him curiously, but he didn’t return the look. He let his optics close, hearing Hound say he would start up the fire again. The sun wasn’t completely set yet, but the far side of the valley was already getting dark. Better safe than sorry, especially since most of the present company didn’t have night vision. Only Bumblebee had night vision, and he couldn’t be watching every possible enemy hiding place at the same time.

The day had come and gone and once again, Crosshairs was thinking about how much more of this he could take before his processor completely fried. If Optimus didn’t show up, if _somebody_ didn’t show up soon, he really was just going to leave and find a way off the planet. He fell into recharge with that thought in his head.

Drift was having trouble staying inside his bubble of meditation. Something was disrupting his flow. After another half an hour of constant interference, he finally opened his optics, looking around for the source. Nothing seemed out of place. Everyone was recharging quietly, and from what he could see and hear, no one was attempting an ambush. So what could possibly…

He paused, looking down at the body lying next to him. Crosshairs was once again recharging flat on his back, extremely close to Drift, in his personal space really, but the longer Drift looked at him, the less he felt like moving him. Drift could always move instead, but then Crosshairs rolled onto his side, his face inches from Drift’s hip, and Drift knew if he did, Crosshairs would definitely wake up.

With a small smile, Drift closed his optics again. Slipping into meditative recharge was much easier when he decided he didn’t mind so much.

[][][][][]

The next morning brought a moderately unwelcome surprise. Drift came online and instantly felt off balance. He quickly realized what the issue was when he saw Crosshairs swinging a sword—one of HIS swords—in a wide arc over his head.

“What do you think you are doing?” Drift demanded loudly, standing up, all positive feelings for the mech gone in an instant. Crosshairs brought the sword back down, looking over at Drift.

“I’m tryin’ to figure out why you like these things so much, when a gun’s so much more efficient.”

Drift took a step in his direction and Crosshairs stood up straighter, bracing for whatever Drift was going to do.

“You will return my property to me.” Drift said, his voice quiet again. Crosshairs cocked an optical ridge at him, going back to looking at the sword.

“Yeah I will, when I’m done.”

“No. Now.” Drift said, his hand going to his other sword. Crosshairs saw the motion and smirked, brandishing his sword at Drift.

“You gonna start a fight with me too, zen master?” He taunted. By now, Hound and Bumblebee had jolted awake, and were now staring at the two mechs squaring off in the morning sun. Drift gave Crosshairs a withering look.

“Do you really think you can best me with my own sword?” He asked, seeing a little crackle zip through Crosshairs’ optics. Crosshairs raised the sword and Drift was amazed to see he was actually holding it right. Of course, in doing so, Crosshairs had prompted Drift to automatically draw his own sword.

“Guys, can we not do this? Don’t exactly have a medic around to fix ya.” Hound said, trying to defuse the situation, but neither mech was listening. Drift was desperately trying to ignore old protocols that were attempting to activate, but Crosshairs’ smirk was making it really hard.

“Come on, take a shot at me, Mr. Ex-Con.” Crosshairs goaded. Bumblebee made a distressed noise that sounded an awful lot like ‘oh no’. That did it. Drift’s optics cycled wide and he launched himself at the green mech, swinging his sword expertly. The only reason he didn’t cut Crosshairs in half right then was that he still had some sense, that and Crosshairs had managed to lift his sword in time to block his swing.

“How many times must I tell you,” Drift said, taking another slice out of the air where Crosshairs would have been had he not pivoted out of the way. “Do not bring up my past.” He spun and kicked Crosshairs in the back, sending him down. Crosshairs rolled out of the way when Drift brought his sword back down and kicked his leg up, hitting Drift in the side with the side of his foot.

Drift grabbed Crosshairs around the ankle and wrenched his leg, using the momentum to flip the green mech onto his front. Dropping his knee into Crosshairs’ back, effectively pinning him down, he thrust his sword into the ground in front of the green mech’s face. He took the hand that wasn’t on his sword and used it to hold Crosshairs’ face to the dirt.

“You made two mistakes.” Drift said in Crosshairs’ audial. “First, you took that which is mine. Second, you brought up my past yet again. The next time you make those mistakes, it will be the end of you.”

He reached and grabbed the sword that Crosshairs had dropped before standing, pulling his other one out of the ground and stalking off, leaving the rest of his teammates to stare after him.

Crosshairs’ spark was spinning in its chamber as he watched the tactician go, his entire frame hot from the fight, and something else… that something else quickly made itself known to him when he went to stand up, only to quickly drop back to the ground, face plates on fire with embarrassment.

Lucky for him, Bumblebee and Hound didn’t approach, instead standing off to the side. After Crosshairs struggled to his feet and took off in another direction, Hound and Bumblebee shrugged at one another and returned to the campsite. Hopefully their comrades would return soon. They knew better than to go after Drift when he was angry, and the same went for Crosshairs. Better to just let them blow off steam and come back in their own time.

Crosshairs was thankful for his coattails as he stormed away from the campsite, because when he finally found a quiet place hidden from the campsite, a huge rock pillar sitting in a circle of smaller ones, he braced himself against it and stared down at the trails of lubricant on the inside of his thighs.

His intake heaved as multiple emotions tore through him: anger, disbelief, and the glaringly obvious feeling of arousal. Drift kicking his aft, and then the harsh dressing down in his audial had made him hot under the chassis, something that hadn’t happened in a very long time. _Nothing_ got him hot anymore. At least, he had thought so up until this moment.

Shakily, he sat down at the base of a rock column, hidden in its shadow, his armor expanding to let hot air out. It did nothing for the heat pooling between his legs, but at least his vents weren’t struggling anymore. He gritted his dentae, another surge flying through his systems as he remembered the feeling of Drift’s hand on his helm, making him shiver. He had two options; wait this out or take care of it.

The ghost of Drift’s voice played in his audial and with a gasp, he retracted his interface panel and pushed a finger inside his valve, hunching over on himself with a groan. He welcomed the long-forgotten feeling of his fingers against his internal nodes, forcing in another finger beside the second. His foot scraped across the ground as he tried to lift his hips, growling when the dirt slid from underneath him.

He shifted his position, lying down more instead of sitting straight up and moved his coattails out of the way, bunching them up behind his back like a cushion. He then began moving his fingers again, groaning and closing his optics. Much better… Primus, he hadn’t done this in ages, never had a reason to, but now, he couldn’t remember why he had stopped. His whole frame was on fire, every sensor, every piece of cable and wiring was singing, and he moaned again.

He was so close already that he couldn’t believe it. His body shook and his intake was having trouble getting air into his system, making him gasp through his moans as his fingers pumped in and out of his valve. Bright colored lubricant colored the ground beneath him and he prayed to Primus that no one came looking for him. What an image he’d make; lying there in the dirt getting himself off after a little fight, a fight that he had in fact lost embarrassingly fast.

Speaking of embarrassingly fast, he spread his legs more, groaning. It was right there he could feel it.

“Come on.” He growled, pushing his fingers as deep as they would go. He stopped, his body one huge quivering mess, and desperately massaged his thumb against his outer node. His engine kicked up with a roar, and he shouted as he overloaded, his knees clanging together as he shook through his release. His free hand clawed at the dirt as he squeezed his optics closed, his forehead resting on his knees and his mouth hanging open.

When his overload finally ebbed, he was left the same quivering mess as before, shaking and greedily sucking air into his vents. His hand shook as he pulled his fingers from his valve, the slick sensation and his now empty valve making him moan weakly.

“Bleedin’ hell…” He breathed, feeling like he could use a quick stasis nap. He was severely tempted, but instead he rooted around in subspace for a rag, using it to clean himself up and make himself presentable. He couldn’t go back to camp looking like he did, covered in lubricant and dirt. That would be a disaster. With a sigh, he shut his interface panel.

After cooling down for a few more minutes, he got to his feet, swaying on shaking legs and gripping the pillar for support. When he was sure he wouldn’t fall over, he began his long walk back to camp.

He didn’t see Drift when he arrived but Bumblebee immediately stood up, glaring at him.

[What the hell was that about?] A voice asked through the radio. Crosshairs grunted at him and sat down, crossing his arms.

“Guy’s too sensitive is all. I was just lookin’.” He grumbled. Bumblebee put a hand over his optics, and the radio was choppier when he spoke again, each word being said by a different voice.

[You know better than to start a fight with him. We all know that.]

“You do it all the time. You sayin’ you don’t know better?” Crosshairs snapped. Bumblebee glared at him again but before he could retaliate, Hound stepped in.

“Look, let’s just all agree that we’re sick of being here and waiting for the others to show up, and that we’re all on edge. It’s not hard to figure that out.”

Bumblebee gave an agreeing sound and Crosshairs slumped back against his rock, staring out at the open expanse of valley. It wasn’t even mid day yet. He was going to end up venturing off again; he could feel it. His optics fluttered a bit and he settled in for a stasis nap. Venturing would come later…

It didn’t feel like he had napped for long, but when he came back online and stretched, the sun was higher in the sky and Bumblebee and Hound were lobbing a huge rock back and forth. Crosshairs had seen the Wreckers play that game often enough to know he wasn’t interested. He got up and shook the rest of his nap off before walking off, yelling a quick ‘going for a walk’ to the other Autobots.

Deep down he knew it was a bad idea, but he found himself following the route he had seen Drift take earlier that day. The path soon became familiar and Crosshairs found himself standing directly under his chosen spot. Sitting in his chosen spot was Drift. He scaled the wall a distance away so he didn’t come right up behind the other mech, and was unsurprised to see him in his meditation position.

Crosshairs sat down a few feet from him, and jumped when Drift spoke.

“You have a lot of nerve coming here after what happened this morning.” Drift said evenly, his optics still closed. Crosshairs huffed.

“I have a lot of nerve, eh? You’re the one who’s sittin’ in my spot. My designated spot that I claimed lunar cycles ago.”

“You mean months.”

“Months yeah whatever, look, stop correctin’ me.” Crosshairs said in a rush. “I came up here for a reason.”

Drift opened his optics, irritation clear in his face.

“Oh? And what reason would that be, other than to interrupt my calming meditation, which I am having to do in the middle of the day because of you.”

Crosshairs thought quickly for a reason, because he didn’t really have one. His eyes flickered over Drift’s body and he spoke without thinking.

“Teach me.”

Drift’s expression turned confused.

“Teach you? Teach you what?”

Crosshairs motioned to him before moving and crossing his own legs, mimicking Drift. The blue mech’s optical ridges rose in surprise.

“Teach me your meditation thing.” Crosshairs said. “This morning, I was being a coghead. Honestly,” he looked down at his hands in his lap, “I thought if we had a little scrap, we’d feel better, getting’ that pent up energy out, but I pushed it too far, didn’t I.”

“Yes.” Drift answered his rhetorical question, making him chuckle.

“I start fights and I don’t think about why. Probably not the best way to go about it, huh.”

“No.”

Crosshairs tensed when Drift reached over to him, but the other mech simply repositioned Crosshairs’ hands and pressed a hand against his spinal strut, straightening his back more.

“Now you are ready. The key to meditation is to not force it. You must feel it.” Drift began talking, and it was one of those rare times Crosshairs listened.

[][][][][]

So he didn’t quite stay as focused as Drift, but Crosshairs thought he did pretty well for his first try, and Drift praised him as well, praised being a looser term for tease.

“I did not think you capable of sitting in one spot for more than 10 minutes.” The tactician chuckled as they walked back to camp. Crosshairs tossed a playful punch in Drift’s direction, stumbling when Drift actually moved out of the way.

“You’re not supposed to dodge it.” Crosshairs grumbled. Drift smiled at him.

“I know, but I wanted to anyway, just because.”

“Drift, wait.” Crosshairs said several minutes later, catching the other mech by the elbow. Drift stopped and turned towards him, watching the paratrooper shift his weight.

“I’m shit at apologizin’, I don’t do it often, so I’m just gonna say it outright. I’m sorry I picked a fight with you, well. Not sorry I picked a fight because I like fights, but sorry about the fragged way I went about it. I know if I had your past, I’d get pissed about someone bringin’ it up too.”

Drift stared at him, amazed. Outstanding. He must have stared too long because Crosshairs started glaring.

“Did I say somethin’ wrong?” He asked, and Drift shook his head, a smile on his face.

“No not at all. I am just surprised that you apologized at all. I expected you to go about your business and start another argument later tonight.”

Crosshairs smirked and Drift felt a jolt run up his struts.

“Could do that anyway if you like.” He said, his voice a rumble in his chassis. Drift chuckled and shook his head.

“I think we’ve done enough fighting for the day. Now it’s my turn. I am sorry for attacking you as I did.”

“I deserved it, to be fair.” Crosshairs said. Drift put a hand on the green mech’s shoulder, smiling.

“You did, but that does not make what I did right. We are all we have right now, Crosshairs: you, me, Bumblebee and Hound. We four must stick together until the rest of the Autobots return. Fighting with one another is not a good way to build a strong bond, and we will need a strong bond if we are to survive on this planet that has decided to turn its back on us.”

Crosshairs knew that in his own roundabout way, Drift was saying he wanted to try and be friends. Crosshairs didn’t do friends. It just wasn’t his thing, but with the way Drift was smiling at him, and his hand on the paratrooper’s shoulder, Crosshairs figured eh, what the hell.

“Yeah alright, zen master.” Crosshairs said, deciding that was his new nickname for Drift. “We can try and get along, but I ain’t makin’ any promises.”

“Good. Everything must first be attempted before one is sure about the permanent outcome.”

Crosshairs rolled his optics. More mystic speech, oh Primus.

“One more thing.” Drift said before taking Crosshairs’ face between his hands. Crosshairs didn’t even get a word out before Drift’s mouth was on his, shutting him up for a couple seconds before the other mech pulled away.

“What the hell just happened.” Crosshairs asked. That was by far the weirdest thing Drift had done yet. Instead of answering him, the mech in question started walking again, chuckling all the while.

“You are welcome to look it up.” Drift said over his shoulder, so Crosshairs did, and what he saw sent a jolt through his system.

“Y-you kissed me.” He said in disbelief. “You bloody kissed me, wait a damn minute!” He called, jogging to catch up. He stepped in front of Drift, feeling annoyed that he was still smiling.

“Why’d you do that?” He said, his processor a whirl of the images he had seen. “Kissing, that’s for people who are… and we’re not so why would you do that?” He demanded, panicking. Did Drift know about what he had done after their fight? There was no way.

“I did it because I feel affectionate towards you,” Drift said, “and I felt you would better receive my intentions through action rather than my words, which I have heard you find tedious.”

Crosshairs made a face.

“Yeah but… you and me, it wouldn’t work. That’s ridiculous, sparklings think about shit like that. We’re grown mechs who constantly fight. It won’t work, not to mention that came out of nowhere.”

Drift shrugged, looking as calm as ever.

“Not out of nowhere, not from my point of view. And besides. Everything must first be attempted before one is sure of the permanent outcome.” He repeated his sentence from minutes before, making Crosshairs glare at him.

“Don’t you pull that on me—“

“Do you want to make the first attempt with me, or not?” Drift interrupted Crosshairs before he could start ranting again. The paratrooper was still glaring at him, but now he was shifting his weight again.

Crosshairs honestly didn’t have a single clue what to think. Yeah he had relieved a little tension earlier with Drift in mind, but did he really want a… relationship with him? Drift was still watching him calmly and when he continued to say nothing, Drift spoke again.

“You are not fully trained so you did not feel it, but while we were meditating, our energies were very close to being in sync.”

“Oh so now it’s about energy—“

“Be silent and listen.” Drift said firmly, and Crosshairs did after crossing his arms.

“The way energy works for the humans is different from how it works for us. Most of them cannot feel the energy of others. Only a select few have this ability, and so, they do not base their relationships on this.” He took a step closer and Crosshairs didn’t move away, letting Drift into his personal space.

“However, with the proper training, Cybertronians can learn to feel energy and what it means. I have learned this, and you and I have much potential to be something special.”

Crosshairs narrowed his optics. This was getting to be a little much for him.

“Okay before you completely turn me off the idea with all your energy and potential speak, let me just say one thing. If we do this, no one can know.”

Drift almost looked offended so Crosshairs backtracked.

“I mean, if we frag up and it doesn’t work, we’re gonna be back at each others’ throats, yeah? Better if they think we just stopped gettin’ along again, instead of givin’ them the chance to tell us we were stupid for tryin’ something as crazy as… this.” He motioned between them.

“So you do want to try.”

Crosshairs sighed. Out of all of that, Drift hadn’t heard a word. He gave up and nodded.

“Yeah yeah alright, we’ll try, but just like with the fightin’, I ain’t promisin’ nothin’.”

He didn’t tense up so bad when Drift kissed him again because now he knew what it meant, but he didn’t really kiss back either. It would take some getting used to.

“Trying is the first step on the long road to succeeding.” Drift said, walking again, leaving Crosshairs to follow after him with a sigh. Primus, what had he gotten himself into?


End file.
